


the oldest and strongest kind of fear

by raelyn



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, but the biggest focus is newt and hermann so yeah, it's going to have a lot of new bb pilots and relationships, the rating will probably go to Explicit later so keep that in mind, there will be sexin, this is my first fic in like 8 years be gentle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelyn/pseuds/raelyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Breach is closed, Newt must deal with the consequences of drifting solo with a Kaiju brain, and with his new bond with Hermann Gottlieb. The PPDC must recover from its devastation and begin to rebuild, and restart the Jaeger program. New pilot hopefuls will arrive in droves, ready to stand watch against a threat that hovers over the world, even in the wake of their apparent victory. </p><p>(This is a fix-it, but I'm not sure who I will save from their canon death besides Stacker yet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the oldest and strongest kind of fear

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first foray into fanfic writing in a long time, so hopefully you will enjoy the story. I intend for it to be a fairly long story that is mainly about the original canon characters and their relationships, as well as how their lives changed after the breach closes. It will also have new pilot trainees, who will have their own small little side stories and interactions with the main characters . It's going to focus quite a bit on Hermann and Newt, and how their relationship develops and changes with the weird shit happening to Newt, which obviously effects Hermann as he shares a bond after they drifted.

The entire Hong Kong Shatterdome erupted into thunderous applause as the rescue teams confirmed that they had found the escape pods of both Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket. Both pilots were alive and well, and the breach had been closed successfully. Newt, clutching a grimy handkerchief to his bloody nose, weakly cheers along with everyone else in the LOCCENT, beaming so hard that it makes his cheeks hurt. He high fives Tendo Choi as the man rushes past, completely wasted. Tendo seems to be intent on high fiving literally every employee of the Shatterdome that he can find. Newt is leaning heavily against Hermann Gottlieb, who looks almost as torn up as Newt feels. Neither of them are indulging in the high quailty alcohol Tendo had somehow procured en masse for the celebration of the century.

The two scientists clutch at one another, scarcely daring to believe that it’s all over, that what they did, the risk they took, really did help save humanity. Newt is still reeling mentally from drifting with a Kaiju not just once, but twice. He can still smell the ammonia, still sees images of the Kaiju masters glaring balefully every time he closes his eyes. Glancing around somewhat frantically, he looks for something to calm him down and distract him from the intrusive thoughts. Eventually he fixates on the worn fabric of Hermann’s coat as the celebrations continue worldwide, rubbing it between his fingers, trying to ground himself, trying to chase away the lingering, sickly taste of Kaiju in his brain, in his very being.

 _‘I did what needed to be done. These feelings and thoughts, they won’t last. I’ll probably be totally fine tomorrow. I  just need to pull myself together.’_  Somehow, the thought isn’t as confident and reassuring as Newt hoped.

Mustering all of the resolve he can find, Newt disentangles himself and pulls away from Hermann, who continues to watch the party as if nothing had changed. The abrupt absence of stabilizing contact briefly disorients him, but he clenches his jaw and fights the urge to reach out for the scientist. He's not a child, he can cope on his own. Hermann shouldn't have to coddle him through this. Besides, Hermann has never been fond of physical contact. Newt knows that, knows it as surely as he knows himself, now. He’s actually vaguely surprised that Hermann let him cling onto him for so long without even a token protest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Newt catches sight of Herc Hansen making a quiet exit, his face tight with grief. No one will blame him for not joining in the celebration.

“Would you like to go? I'm tired, and I think I'd quite like to rest.” Newt flinches away from the low voice, which had spoken almost directly into his ear. He realizes it was just Hermann and turns to face him, giving him a sheepish grin. Hermann raises an eyebrow inquisitively, and Newt nods. He doesn’t trust his voice right now. His throat is tight with emotion, and sore from the stress of drifting twice. Hermann eyes him curiously, and Newt could have sworn that he looked concerned, for a moment. He decides he probably imagined it.

Hermann begins picking his way through the jubilant crowd. Newt can tell from the tense line of his shoulders and his stiff gait that his left leg is hurting, badly. Newt also notes, almost clinically, that he himself can feel a deep, persistent ache in his own corresponding leg and hip. Is this the ghost drifting that the pilots always talk about? He'd read about it plenty of times, but experiencing it is an entirely different thing. He's going to have to conduct more extensive research on the topic, now that he can use himself as a test subject. None of the pilots ever wanted to let him do a brain scan on them, for whatever reason. Possibly because of what happened to Hermann that one time, when he'd somehow singed his hair off during a 'simple scan'. But that was ages ago! It was totally unfair of them to judge him for it.

Now that he’s focused his attention on the sensation, he can vaguely feel other things, too. Shame, anger, frustration. He knows now that Hermann sometimes resents his limitations, so it's not entirely surprising to feel those emotions coming from him, especially when it's currently causing him so much pain. However, experiencing the memories in the drift was somehow very different from feeling the emotions himself over the ghost drift.

Lost in thought, Newt realizes with a jolt that Hermann has already reached the door and is impatiently waiting for him, leaning heavily on his cane, his expression exasperated. Weaving his way around the celebrating Shatterdome residents, he follows Hermann out the door and into the residential part of the facilities. Grey walls go past in a blur, with the occasional steel door or painted number to break up the monotony.  In his tired, distracted haze, Newt collides abruptly with Hermann’s back, and nearly bowls him over. He hadn't realized they had already reached their quarters. How had they gotten there so quickly? Was he really that preoccupied?

Hermann turns to snap at him, and Newt flinches away, startled by the hot anger that flared up across their lingering bond. Hermann freezes, keys clutched in one hand. The fear in Newt’s eyes is vibrant and real, and Hermann’s mouth twists into an apologetic grimace.

“I’m sorry, Geiszler. It’s been a long day, I’m tired and afraid I’m not entirely myself.”

 _‘Funny, I’m afraid of the same thing, in a way.’_ Newt thinks wryly.

“S’okay, we’re all tired. I’m going to go to bed.” Hermann doesn’t even have time to reply before Newt dodges around him, eyes glued to the floor, and pads quickly across the common area of their apartment into his own bedroom, locking the door behind him.

Stumbling towards his private bathroom, Newt sheds his bloody, dirt streaked clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor as he goes. Flicking on the light, he winces as he catches sight of himself in the large mirror. He looks like a mess. And not a hot mess, either, unfortunately. Blood has dried in big chunks on his upper lip, and his eye is still beyond bloodshot. Dark bruises mar his colourful tattoos. Newt tears his gaze away from the mirror, reaching around the shower curtain and turning on the water full blast. Steam rapidly fills the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror, obscuring Newt’s view of his ravaged body. Stepping gingerly into the shower, Newt sighs contentedly as the hot water hits his tense muscles, loosening some of the painful knots. Closing his eyes, he leans back slightly, letting the water run over his face, washing away the dried blood.

Something brushes against Newt’s mind, something angry and massive. Confused and extremely startled, Newt gasps and opens his eyes. He very quickly wishes he hadn't. Otachi’s gaping maw hovers inches from his face, kaiju blue dripping in slimy strands from its mouth and pooling at his feet, sizzling as it eats through the acrylic. He can feel her hot breath gusting over his face, the sickly scent of ammonia and salt filling his nostrils. Newt yelps. In his abject terror, he slips, crashing heavily to the ground, crying out in pain as his hip connects solidly with the acrylic of the tub. In this moment of distraction, the kaiju disappears.

Newt gasps for air, his hip throbbing sharply. He begins to notice a gutteral, muttering voice in his head, an undercurrent to all his other panicked thoughts. He focuses on it, listening intently.

_‘mindtouch hive? hive touch yes lonely much lonely touch touch join bright too bright pain hurts hurts hurts HURTS touch hivehihive hive hurtshurtshurts lonely afraid’_

He physically and mentally recoils from the alien presence, revulsion and fear strong in his mind. The other thing seems to notice him at this point, and the thoughts increase in volume, overwhelming him, drowning out nearly all of his own thoughts in a wave of frantic, foreign chanting. He can almost feel something skittering around inside his skull, sharp nails digging painfully into his brain, latching on. Newt feels like someone has plunged him into icy water. Fear pools in his stomach, and he can taste bile in his mouth. His eyes start to roll back, his vision going spotty. Newt yanks at his own hair viciously, fingers scrabbling over his scalp, screaming hoarsely. If he could just get inside his skull, he could pull whatever this thing was out. He convulses violently, and dark, syrupy blood starts dribbling from his nose, dripping into the water and snaking slowly towards the drain. The last thing Newt notices before he is completely overtaken is the sudden arrival of another presence, radiating alarm and confusion.


End file.
